Forgotten
by pendragon94
Summary: Sookie leaves to protect Eric, and goes to Fearie where she spends her time learning how to fight and protect herself. When she returns much has changed, and she is certain Eric doesn't want her anymore. But could she be wrong?


Warning: POV will switch without indication one time in this chapter.

The old house sets empty on its land, with the barely visible gravel driveway disappearing into the overgrown yard. No one has lived here for quite some time. The forest has started to creep in, with saplings dotting the yard. The yellow paint that had once been new and beautiful is now dull and peeling from its lonely days in the Louisiana sun. A pair of chains hangs loosely on the front porch, where a swing used to sway in the wind. The wooden swing now lies in the yard after a brutal storm removed it from its place, and it is forgotten, decaying away. Several shutters are hanging at odd angles, and a few are missing entirely. Part of the railing of the porch is missing, and one of the steps needs replaced, but the chances of that happening are slim. The home where children grew and people loved is now a shell of its former self.

A window is broken on the upper level, letting rain and wind make a mess of a once beloved bedroom. Mold creeps through the walls, spreading from the window outward. A once beautiful red dress still lies on the bed, forgotten, and held there by the will of nothing. Its edges are tattered, and the color has faded, but it was no doubt meant to be worn. On the nightstand, a book lays open face down, waiting to be finished by its reader. Down the hall, the stairs are cracked and worn, but still sturdy. In the kitchen, dishes wait in their cupboards to be put to use, and the old dining table lays half on the floor as one of its legs has been broken. The old back screen door is hanging on by only its top hinge. The old rug at the front door is kicked to one side, slightly crossing the threshold to the living room. Picture frames dot every wall and table in the living room, but the glass is so clouded that the images are unrecognizable. One of the chairs is turned over, hinting at past violence. The wardrobe sits in the corner, closed and untouched, hoping for its secret to be revealed.

As the lateness of the evening sets in, a vehicle pulls up the drive, and an older woman steps out of the car. She appears to be in her seventies or eighties, with her hair in a single thick braid behind her, almost below her waist. She's wearing a simple white t-shirt with blue jeans, and a pair of white tennis shoes. Her legs are steady as she stands straight and gazes at the house. Her eyes fill with tears, but she refuses to let them fall. A sense of longing replaces her sadness as she approaches the porch, and runs her hand over the remaining railing on one side of the steps. She blinks, and a memory flashes in her mind.

_The little blond girl, trying to go a little too fast down the stairs and just barely catching herself on the rail. Her Gran stands in the doorway and reminds her to be careful as her and her brother go out to play. _

She tries the step, and deeming it safe, ascends up onto the porch. She notices that the screen door is missing, and she when sees the chains hanging down from above to her right, she blinks again.

_The blond girl sets with Gran on the swing, curled into her side, and Gran holds her. She listens to her grandmother tell her that her parents have passed. She cries, and her Gran holds her closer. _

When she pushes the front door open it creaks in protest since its hinges haven't been used in a very long time. Inhaling, she tastes the stale air, and turns to the kitchen and dining room. She's sad to see the dining table in disrepair, but none the less she moves forward toward the kitchen. When she looks at one particular spot, she closes her eyes.

_She walks in, only to drop to her knees as she sees her Gran on the floor, surrounded in blood. _

Opening her eyes again, she drinks everything in, and moves back toward the front door. Going left, she doesn't even look into the living room, and makes her way up the stairs. She only glances into each room, before getting to the bedroom with a broken window. Stepping inside, tears finally fall as she sees the dress laid out on the bed. But she doesn't dwell. Grabbing a box from the closet, she ignores the moth eaten clothes hanging there. Reaffirming her composure, she begins to place every picture frame she can find in the box. When she's finished with the top floor, she moves back downstairs, and sets the box by the door.

She finally turns, and goes into the living room. When she glances at the overturned chair, she can't help but remember.

_He paces in front of me, uncertain and angry. "You can't just leave like this!" He finally proclaims, flipping the chair over in his rage. "I have to." She responds, and his head snaps to the side looking at her. He steps forward, towering over her, and puts a hand on the door frame to steady himself. She can see that his hand is leaving an imprint in the wood with the force of his touch. She puts one of her hands over his, then puts the other on his chest, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the lips. He responds, kissing her back, but she takes a step away before anything more happens. "I'm sorry." She says, her voice cracking and tears falling down her face in a torrent. Then with a quiet pop, she is gone._

She rubs her hand over the imprint of his, left in the wood so long ago, and she can feel tears trying to break through again. Looking out the dirty window, she sees the sun setting through the trees, and goes to work, collecting the rest of the pictures from the walls and tables and putting them into the box by the door. Only when this task is complete, and it's almost dark, does she go to the wardrobe. She opens it, and the hatch, carefully going down the ladder. The automated lights kick on, and she's surprised, not believing that power was still running through the house. The lights flicker slightly, but remain on, and the room looks the same as it always had. Only now there is a light coat of dust on the bed and table. Just then she notices a piece of folded paper on the bedside table, and picks it up. It's yellowed and feels ready to fall away to nothing. Unfolding it, she reads the note in his handwriting.

**I'm looking for you. –E**

She sat down on the bed as the weight of this hit her. How long had he looked before he realized that she wasn't on this plane anymore? How long until he realized that she must have gone to fearie? How long did he try to find a way in himself?

The sun had been set for ten minutes when she set the box of picture frames in the trunk of the car and moved toward the driver seat.

"Why did you do it?" The voice doesn't surprise her, and she recognizes it instantly, turning to face the blond vampire. Pam looks her over, inspecting her aged form, and waiting for an answer.

"Because I loved him." I say, and Pam looks surprised. This was not what she expected. "The day before we were due to go to the party, I had a visitor. It was my grandfather, Niall Brigant. He brought a seer with him from fearie. Niall told me that if I went with Eric to the party, then he would die."

Pam shakes her head, not believing, and I cut her off before she can protest. "If I had stayed, someone would have attacked me at the party. Eric would have been staked trying to protect me. Niall told me this, and we had a long discussion between ourselves and the seer. Afterwards he left, and I had a choice to make." I look her in the eye. "As I was, if I had stayed, Eric would have always been putting himself at risk to try and protect me. I would always be his weakness, because I could not defend myself. So my choices were to either to risk it and stay with him for the moment, or I could leave and go to fearie with Niall. He would train me and teach me to protect myself."

"So why didn't you come back sooner?" She demands, obviously still angry.

"I did." I tell her, and recount my memory.

_I step through the portal, and find myself back in the cemetery near my house. I want to go home, but it is already dark out, and there is somewhere I would much rather be. I focus on where I want to go, and with a pop I am in the alley across the street from Fangtasia. I'm in dark clothes to blend in, and after getting through an unfamiliar man at the door, I slip into the crowd. I see him there, on his thrown on the stage, and he looks over the crowd bored. I'm about to approach him when I see her, a fangbanger wearing almost nothing. She approaches him and offers herself, and to my heartbreak he takes her hand and leads her back to his office. I'm not sure why, but I wait, until he comes back from his office. I don't know where the girl has gone, probably home or to the bathroom, and he sits down on his thrown like nothing has happened. I'm sitting at the bar with a burly man sitting next me, blocking his view. I peek around and watch Eric, tears leaking down over my face. Suddenly the burly man leaves me exposed, and Eric sees me. His eyes meet mine, and I know he sees who I am. He stands, but before I let him get any closer, I pop away. I return to the cemetery, and to fearie. _

She looks stunned, and I figure Eric never told her that he'd seen me again.

"I loved him, Pam, and you know what? I still do. But he doesn't want me anymore, and I have accepted that."

She steps forward, as though to put a hand on my shoulder, but I do not want sympathy. With a quick flash of my hand she is sent flying fifty feet away from me. When she stands she looks stunned.

"I was in fearie for a long time. I can defend myself now." I say, and get in the car. I leave, and she doesn't follow.


End file.
